Your Eyes Have A Little Green In Them
by choco-coco-xx
Summary: Kat's view of Bogey Lowenstein's party and the car ride home. A few different things but nothing to drastic, except for the end, totally different. Kat/Patrick! Review!


Your Eyes have a little green in them

Summary: This is what I think should have happened when Kat got smashed. From her point of view. Not much different from the original thing, just as few more bits. Oh, and different car scene between Kat and Patrick. If you don't want to read the whole story that's fine, just read the end though please. Review!

Story: "9:30 right? Well, I'm early," said Patrick, standing at my front door. "I'm driving," I replied in shock. "Who knocked up your sister?" asked Patrick. I just rolled my eyes and pushed past him. The car trip was silent, except for when Patrick broke it. Shame, I was enjoying the 'peace' and quiet. "So what made you come, it was the thought of me being there wasn't it?" He gave his 'award-winning' smile. I hated that stupid grin, because unfortunately it made me weak in the knees. But only for a second. "Yes, the thought of you drove me to go to Bogey Lowenstein's Party," I responded, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I saw his smile drop from his face. Ha!

"Here we are," I said quietly, pulling into Bogey's driveway crammed with cars.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It must have shown because Patrick said, "What's wrong, 'The Shrew' nervous?" I looked at him, "You do know the way to get a real date with a girl is to compliment her, not call her 'The Shrew'?" He threw his hands in the air. I rolled my eyes. I was forever doing that nowadays.

We stepped out from the car and walked towards the great doors. I swallowed the bile that was rising from my throat. Already the stench of smoke and alcohol was leaking from the house. Probably smelt like home to Patrick. Once we were inside I could here the music blasting from the speakers.

He waggled his eyebrows, "What should we do first?" I glared at him. I knew what he was 'implying'. "Argh. That's the worst innuendo I've heard in a long time." He rolled his eyes. He rolled his eyes. His. Argh.

I lost Patrick in the crowd. Obviously on purpose. I wandered around absent-mindedly for a bit. I walked down a flight of stairs and into the living room. That was when I heard a very familiar voice say, "Sweet." Joey Donner cut me off from walking. "Looking fresh tonight, pussy-cat."

"Wait, was that-did your hairline just recede?" It worked he brought his hand up to his hair.

"Hey, where you goin'?"

"Away," I replied.

"Your sister here." Anger bubbled inside me ready to explode. This guy never freaking gave up.

"Your stay away from my sister."

"Oh, I'll stay away from your sister. But I can't guarantee that she'll stay away from me." That ass. All of a sudden some drugged up guy yelled "FIGHT," from behind Joey.

"Ooh, fight," screamed Joey. So mature.

Parties haven't changed since my last one. Which was a long time ago. I jogged my way through the thread of drugged up drunk teenagers until I heard a deafening braking of glass that seemed to echo through the entire house. Everyone looked in the direction of the noise. I rolled my eyes. Argh.

I stepped into the front hallway, but stopped in mid-step. "Hey Kat, look who found," gloated Joey. I grabbed Bianca's hand as they started to leave, "Bianca wait."

"Please do not address me in public," she snapped.

"Bianca, I have to tell you something." I can't believe I'm about to tell her what happened between me a Joey in front of Joey.

"I'm busy enjoying my life, so scamper off and do the same."

"Bu-bye," smirked Joey, leaning over to grab Bianca's hand.

I groaned. My life life is so frustrating. With Patrick on my back all the time and Joey and Bianca running off together all the time.

"Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you," screamed Patrick over the loud music, coming up behind me. Fortunately not many things scare me so I didn't jump.

I smirked sarcastically. I guy came round the corner holding a platter of some kind of liquor. Probably tequila or vodka or something. "You want one," he slurred. I grabbed a glass and chugged it down in one gulp. I could feel the alcohol burn down my throat. It took away the anger bubbling inside of me though. Maybe that's why people drink till they pass out.

"What's this?" Patrick asked, glaring at the guy who had the alcohol. Already I could feel the drink setting a course through my blood-stream, making itself known. "He, he, lighten up babe," I said, then drunkenly clamped a hand over my mouth.

I couldn't believe that had come out of my mouth. I gurgled drunkenly. My last rational thought flew out of my head as I gulped down the next lot of liquor I took off the platter. I started off in another direction than Patrick and soon lost him. Good, he's not my body-guard. I couldn't stop giggling. No, that was an understatement. I couldn't stop laughing. Several times people would stop and stare at me laughing my head off in the middle of the living-room because somebody said hi to me.

Suddenly I ran into Patrick again. Great. I had a drink in my had and he said, "Why don't you let me have this one?".

More of a statement than a question. "Na-uh-uh, honey bun," did I just say that, "This one's my twenty-wentyith. And I'M finishing it," I slurred. Then I moved away from him. Unfortunately he grabbed my arm and pulled me back to him. I giggled and struggled in a feeble attempt to get him off. His grip just tightened. I could see the concern in his eyes, which were actually kind of pretty. In a secretive, mysterious way.

I pried his fingers from my arm and quietly whispered, "Bye bye." I started away from him before he could yell my name and I went back. I soon lost him in the crowd. I felt like crying. There was no point though. Even my drunken side new that. I sat own. I felt terribly sick. I can't believe I'm drunk. It's such a patriarchal driven thing, I can't belive I went against my moroles. All of a sudden, a song came on. The song pumped through my veins like blood. It made me want to dance, like now.

I moved toward a table in the dining-room. I heard somebody mumble something behind me. I didn't care. This song pulsated through me like water down rapids. I clambered up on the table and started dancing. Like, I mean, dancing, dancing.

Sexy dancing. And I knew it. Every guy around me was hooting and whistling. But I didn't care. It felt so good. Even some of the girls were hooting.

I loved it. All the attention. I knew I was goin t pay the price on Monday, but I didn't care. Now was now. Then was then.

I kept dancing and dancing, loving it, that was until I hit my head on the chandelier. Ow. I started to fall backward. I was passing ut I could feel it.

Luckily, Patrick caught me. Patrick, why'd it have to be Patrick? "Are you alright?" he asked skeptically. "I'm fine," I replied, rather grumpily. He unwrapped his hand from under my arms. I wish he didn't. I started falling back. Thankfully, Patrick caught me, again. Why did it always have to be Patrick. I giggled stupidly at that thought. Of course it was always Patrick.

"Come on, you've gotta sit down," he said, obviously thinking I was giggling because of something else.

"I just need to lie down," I replied, giggling again. Stop giggling.

"Yeah, you lie down, you go to sleep."

"Sleep is good." What is with all this giggling? He sat me down on a seat somewhere outside, I didn't know where, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to think.

"Not if you have a concussion."

"Huh," I replied, completely forgetting what we were 'talking' about. He rolled his eyes. Argh, not again.

Out of nowhere, that little geek, Calvin or Casey or something, came up with his unusually high voice which just made my headache worse. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"I'm a little busy here Cameron," answered Patrick, that's my boy.

"Please, now." Brat. Get over yourself, I felt like saying. Of course I couldn't 'cause he was like Patrick's friend or something. I really didn't care at the time. Patrick looked at me for permission. I nodded, if it wasn't that important, _Cameron,_ wouldn't have asked.

I heard them muttering something in the background. What it was I had no idea. My head hurt way too much. Way, way too much. I need to lie down...

Again with the 'Patrick catching'. "Come on," he said. I saw him share a knowing glance with Cameron. "Why, why, why, Patrick, must it always be you," I whispered intently as he dragged me up a hill to a swing set.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one who's smashed," he responded.

"You're so patronizingly addictive." Gasp, did I just call him addictive? Uh oh. I squirmed out of his arms as to not cause anymore embarrassment on my behalf. Maybe that just caused more.

"Leave it to you to use big words when your drunk," he said, grabbing my waist while I was crawling on the ground. Finally, we reached the top of the what seemed like a mountain.

"Why are you helping me?" I asked, why was he helping me?

"I told you, you might have a concussion." Yeah, likely story.

"You don't care whether I wake up or not."

"Sure I do, because otherwise I'd have to take out girls who actually like me." Ha, ha, very clever.

"My head hurts, I need to sit down." He was stifling laughter. Argh. I sat down on a swing. I licked my lips. It was a nice night, there were stars and the moon. I looked at Patrick and smiled. He was so sweet. His rough exterior and reputation gave him a bad name though. It's such a shame.

I'm so tired...

"No, no, no. Kat, look at me, talk to me!" I felt a soft hand stroke my face.

I looked into my saviors eyes. "Hey, you're eyes have a little green in them." I saw him smile. I love it when he smiles, his smile is so... Blugh. Oh no, I just through up all over his shoes. Ugh. That's disgusting. I'm disgusting.

Patrick stroked my hair. At least he isn't running away.

***

So now where in the car. He wouldn't let me drive. I objected for a little while, but after awhile you have just got to accept the fact that your drunk.

So here we are, in the car, listening to my favourite band. Forgotten what they're called though. Anyway, he really is sweet. I know he doesn't like the band, or in fact any of the bands I like, but he's still listening to it with. I decide to tell him what I really, really want to do when I'm older, couldn't hurt, eh. "I should do this." Not exactly how I planned it in my head, oh well.

"What?" he asks, ever so sweetly, "Start a band." Not the smartest crayon in the box, is he?

And I let him know that. "No, install car stereos," I say srunching up my nose and leaning forward, "Yes, start a band." I heard him laugh, my vision was a little blurry.

"You think you're good to go to your house?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, I should be fine." I smiled at him, he grinned back. I had to, why not? I leant toward him with my lips pursed slightly. I heard him move in his seat.

"Maybe we should do this another time," he said quietly. What, what? No, no! I grabbed his cheeks with my hand and pulled him toward me. Our lips met and carressed each other. We din't stop kissing till at least three minutes later. It was like heaven.

I can't wait 'till I get to gossip about it with Mandella tonight. Just like in Grade Nine!


End file.
